112 Views
1
View In My Room
Philip Leister
Fine Art Paper
12 x 6 in ($40)
White ($80)
112 Views
1
Artist featured in a collection
[first lines] Riddick: [voiceover] They say most of your brain shuts down in cryo-sleep. All but the primitive side, the animal side. No wonder I'm still awake. Transporting me with civilians. Sounded like 40, 40-plus. Heard an Arab voice. Some hoodoo holy man, probably on his way to New Mecca. But what route? What route? I smelt a woman. Sweat, boots, tool belt, leather. Prospector type. Free settlers. And they only take the back roads. And here's my real problem. Mr. Johns... the blue-eyed devil. Planning on taking me back to slam... only this time he picked a ghost lane. A long time between stops. A long time for something to go wrong… Jack: Where the hell can I get eyes like that? Riddick: Gotta kill a few people. Jack: 'Kay, I can do it. Riddick: Then you got to get sent to a slam, where they tell you you'll never see daylight again. You dig up a doctor, and you pay him 20 menthol Kools to do a surgical shine job on your eyeballs. Jack: So you can see who's sneaking up on you in the dark? Riddick: Exactly. Riddick: All you people are so scared of me. Most days I'd take that as a compliment. But it ain't me you gotta worry about now. Johns: Zeke, fully-loaded clip. Safety's on. One shot if you spot him, okay? Zeke: Don't tell me you're going off too. Johns: Yeah. Paris: But what happens if Mr. Riddick spots us first? Johns: [grinning] There will be no shots. Paris: Paris P. Olgilvie. Antiquities dealer, entrepreneur. Riddick: Richard B. Riddick. Escaped convict. Murderer. Johns: Battlefield doctors decide who lives and dies. It's called 'triage'. Riddick: They kept calling it 'murder' when I did it. Riddick: I truly don't know what's gonna happen when the lights go out, Carolyn, but I do know, once the dying starts, this little psycho fuck family of ours is gonna rip itself apart. Johns: I thought I said no shivs. Riddick: You mean this? This is just a personal grooming appliance. Johns: How's it look? Riddick: Looks clear. [Johns steps forward, and a creature flies out towards them. They duck and it flies into the night] Johns: You said it was clear! Riddick: I said it *looked* clear. Johns: Well, how does it look now? Riddick: Looks clear. Riddick: [evil smile] Like I said, it ain't me you gotta worry about. Imam: Because you do not believe in God does not mean God does not believe in - . Riddick: Think someone could spend half their life in a slam with a horse bit in their mouth and not believe? Think he could start out in some liquor store trash bin with an umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and not believe? Got it all wrong, holy man. I absolutely believe in God... And I absolutely hate the fucker. Jack: So... I guess something went wrong. Imam: I have already prayed with the others. It is painless. Riddick: It is pointless. from ‘Pitch Black’ (2000) Starring Keith David (Goliath), Claudia Black (Mass Effect 2), Cole Hauser (FAH-Q - Nope, that’s Affleck’s paddle.), Rhiana Griffith (The Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury), Vin Diesel (Saving Private Ryan), Lewis Fitz-Gerald (Farscape), and Radha Mitchell (Man on Fire). Written by David Twohy (The Fugitive), Ken Wheat (Harlin’s Nightmare on Elm Street), Jim Wheat (The Fly II). Directed by David Twohy (The Arrival). Pitch Black (titled The Chronicles of Riddick: Pitch Black on its DVD re-release) is a 2000 American science fiction action horror filmdirected by David Twohy and co-written by Twohy and brothers Ken and Jim Wheat from a story conceived by the latter. The film stars Vin Diesel, Radha Mitchell, Cole Hauser, and Keith David. Dangerous criminal Richard B. Riddick (Diesel) is being transported to prison in a spacecraft. When the spaceship is damaged by comet debris and makes an emergency crash landing on an empty desert planet, Riddick escapes. However, when predatory alien creatures begin attacking the survivors, Riddick joins forces with the surviving crew and other passengers to develop a plan to escape the planet. Pitch Black was the final film credit of PolyGram Filmed Entertainment, which merged with Universal Pictures during production.[citation needed] It was shot on a modest budget of US$23 million. It received mixed reviews from critics, who praised some promising story elements and the look, but criticized the lack of exploration of the alien world and recycled human conflicts, citing it as weaker than Twohy's The Arrival. Despite this, it was a sleeper hit, grossing over $53 million worldwide and developing its own cult following, particularly around the antihero Riddick. A sequel, The Chronicles of Riddick, was released in 2004 by Universal, with Diesel back as the title character and Twohy returning as writer and director. A third film, simply titled Riddick, was released in 2013, with Diesel and Twohy reuniting again. Source: Wikipedia
2021
Giclee on Fine Art Paper
12 W x 6 H x 0.1 D in
17.25 W x 11.25 H x 1.2 D in
White
Yes
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I’m (I am?) a self-taught artist, originally from the north suburbs of Chicago (also known as John Hughes' America). Born in 1984, I started painting in 2017 and began to take it somewhat seriously in 2019. I currently reside in rural Montana and live a secluded life with my three dogs - Pebbles (a.k.a. Jaws, Brandy, Fang), Bam Bam (a.k.a. Scrat, Dinki-Di, Trash Panda, Dug), and Mystique (a.k.a. Lady), and five cats - Burglekutt (a.k.a. Ghostmouse Makah), Vohnkar! (a.k.a. Storm Shadow, Grogu), Falkor (a.k.a. Moro, The Mummy's Kryptonite, Wendigo, BFC), Nibbler (a.k.a. Cobblepot), and Meegosh (a.k.a. Lenny). Part of the preface to the 'Complete Works of Emily Dickinson helps sum me up as a person and an artist: "The verses of Emily Dickinson belong emphatically to what Emerson long since called ‘the Poetry of the Portfolio,’ something produced absolutely without the thought of publication, and solely by way of expression of the writer's own mind. Such verse must inevitably forfeit whatever advantage lies in the discipline of public criticism and the enforced conformity to accepted ways. On the other hand, it may often gain something through the habit of freedom and unconventional utterance of daring thoughts. In the case of the present author, there was no choice in the matter; she must write thus, or not at all. A recluse by temperament and habit, literally spending years without settling her foot beyond the doorstep, and many more years during which her walks were strictly limited to her father's grounds, she habitually concealed her mind, like her person, from all but a few friends; and it was with great difficulty that she was persuaded to print during her lifetime, three or four poems. Yet she wrote verses in great abundance; and though brought curiosity indifferent to all conventional rules, had yet a rigorous literary standard of her own, and often altered a word many times to suit an ear which had its own tenacious fastidiousness." -Thomas Wentworth Higginson "Not bad... you say this is your first lesson?" "Yes, but my father was an *art collector*, so…"
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